THE MOUTH

It’s autonomic
how pupils scurry
slant by flirt like
brushfire dancing
out mouse and quail
mouth always full
of tooth bells
that toll loosely
waking the snakes
I mean tongues
In between is
and isn’t your legs
scissor the uncomprehending
air stacking volumes
or perhaps that’s unfair
the wind always dizzy
in its wise permutations
the mouth always full
past knowledge
I squiggle in my beard
redly as you
arrive fractious
in the storefront’s glass
fray like a bass
slipping lures
I took sides with death
to oppose it
within without
speech’s jilting need
the mouth always full
the wind parsing what flies
for its modicum of song
the mouth always full
the mouth always full